


Deserving

by McCharmly



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, George is protective, M/M, Teenage Crush, could be read as one sided or reciprocated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27025138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McCharmly/pseuds/McCharmly
Summary: “Missed our fuckin’ bus,” George mumbled under his breath.“You headbutt my mate and your concern is the bus? Fuck’s sake, George.”--Written using a prompt meme! Based on the occasion where George headbutted one of Paul's mates because he didn't deserve Paul's friendship.
Relationships: George Harrison/Paul McCartney
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Deserving

The crack of skulls broke polite small talk. Paul’s eyes widened, gawping at the source — George Harrison, now holding his head.  
  
“Fucking _hell_ , George!”   
  
Paul had managed to get both George and Luke, the poor bloke he had headbutted and one of Paul’s mates, to the school nurse without either of them passing out or throwing up. Thank _fuck_ it had been after school and nobody else was being seen to. George was simply given a glance and sent away, but Luke likely had a concussion and had to stay. Paul himself was fine, just completely flabbergasted.   
  
Paul had decided to introduce George to Luke and go play some football or something, but after five minutes ago, George had slammed his thick head right into Luke’s. Paul didn’t know why — it had come out of nowhere. Now, the school grounds were empty, nobody willingly staying behind for any reason.   
  
“Missed our fuckin’ bus,” George mumbled under his breath.   
  
Paul swung his head to stare George down. He hadn’t spoken to George since the assault. “You headbutt my mate and your concern is the _bus_ ? Fuck’s sake, George.”   
  
George had nothing to say to that.   
  
“Almost gave yourself a bloody concussion,” Paul continued. Admittedly, he was more concerned over George than he was over Luke, and it showed. “Your mum is gonna go _mental_ over that bruise.”   
  
“Don’t bring my mum up,” George groaned. “I don’t wanna think about the fuss I’ll get over it.”   
  
Paul gave a short sigh, knowing George’s mum would be even more overbearing and doting than Paul would ever be. He would drop it. For now. But something else was eating at his mind. The two boys approached the school gates and Paul picked up the pace, circling in front of George to block him from the exit.   
  
“I don’t understand why you did that.” Paul crossed his arms, giving George a look of _disappointment_ . “Luke didn’t do aught.”   
  
George only shifted under Paul’s glare, fiddling with the straps of his backpack. No explanation came.   
  
“George. Why the _hell_ did you do that?”   
  
George shrank for a moment, but soon met Paul’s eyes. “He don’t deserve you.”   
  
Paul’s eyebrows rose. What kind of explanation was that? “What’re you on about?”   
  
“He don’t deserve your friendship.” George straightened a bit at that, more certain of himself this time. “You’re bril. He ain’t.”   
  
Paul gave an amused huff, a quick exhale rather than a laugh. George was just bluffing so Paul would be too thrown off, too _flattered_ to tell him off. It wasn’t going to work. “Seriously, George, why—”   
  
“I _told_ you why.”   
  
George’s eyes were burning, cheeks going pink. He seemed to be getting worked up, in the way a child did when nobody believed their truthful stories. He was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, thumbs sliding under his bag straps.   
  
“That don’t make sense.” Paul was frowning again, more of confusion than disappointment. “I don’t get what you mean—”   
  
“I mean I love you!”   
  
George had _burst_ . His voice tore through the empty school yard and ripped through Paul’s chest. His lips tightened as he swallowed, face burning red, hands gripping tightly on his bag straps.   
  
Paul’s mouth opened, then closed, only to open again. He hadn’t been expecting _this_ , or anything _like_ this. He never would have, in a million years. George stayed silent, eyes darting away from Paul. A hundred questions roared through Paul’s mind — _You mean like a bird? For how long? Were you jealous of him?_ — but now wasn’t the time for it. George looked like he instantly regretted it. George looked… afraid.   
  
Everyone knew queers were dangerous, that’s why they were illegal. But if George loved him like that, then… well, Paul knew he wasn’t dangerous. He was still the same George as before.   
  
Paul rested a hand on George’s shoulder, making the younger man flinch and eyes squeeze shut. Paul’s stomach dropped; did George think Paul was going to yell or hit him? How long had he felt like this, afraid to say anything for fear of what Paul would say, what he would do?   
  
Paul wasn’t sure if he could return George’s feelings, or comfort him properly. But he could ease George’s tension.   
  
“Let’s get you home, Georgie.”   
  
Paul’s voice was gentle. George finally glanced up at him, eyebrows twisted together in confusion. Paul shot him a warm smile, hoping it would help George calm his nerves.   
  
“Your mum’s gonna be proper worried like when you don’t turn up on time.”   
  
George’s lips quivered before he cracked a small smile of his own. Paul wasn’t sure if George’s eyes were wet from relief, or if he was about to cry. “Cheers, Macca.”   
  
Paul’s gentle smile turned serious again. “Just promise you don’t fuckin’ headbutt no-one else.”   
  
George’s fear and embarrassment melted away with his laugh as the two left the schoolyard behind.


End file.
